It was about a week or so ago when my wife and I decided to take a Saturday night stroll along the Detroit Riverwalk. We’d just finished attending the book release party for “A Detroit Anthology” (in which one of my articles on the Detroit music scene is included) at a little spot near Corktown that practically screamed Detroitfrom every well-worn square inch of earth and concrete. The event was great, the crowd was cool, the weather was calm and easy, and the readings given by several of the included authors were all special in their own way in how they caressed the ego of a city as only someone intimately familiar with the strange beautiful that is Detroit can do.

So after we left we didn’t quite feel like going home because, well, we didn’t have to. Whatever work we had to do could wait, no kids to worry about, and we’re full grown Detroit folk. Sometimes full grown folk just need to take a break. So we get there as the light was beginning to leak out of the sky, and as I figured it would be the place was jammed with throbbing beats, bragging cars, and the electricity of summertime youth.

First reaction? Damn. Here we go….

Later? Damn. This is great. The children dancing and playing in the fountains. The teenage girl who bumped i to me then rolled her eye along with her “scuse me” before she rushed to tell her friends how ‘that man tried to chest bump me’. The way my wife grinned, then laughed as she overheard.